


don't wanna let you know, i don't wanna be alone

by carefulren



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Doctor's visit, Fever, Illnesses, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sickfic, Whump, Whumpfic, and player hating on akechi, and they start liking them, basically when the public view of the phantom thieves changes, set a little after Futaba's palace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: Akechi shows up late one night to Cafe Leblanc in the middle of a torrential downpour, and Akira is struggling with his feelings.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 3
Kudos: 129





	don't wanna let you know, i don't wanna be alone

It’s pouring outside when Akira hears what he thinks is a knock on the door, and he makes to brush it off, to blame it on the rapid, fat rain drops slamming down onto the cafe. He turns back to the dishes, but then he hears it again, soft but insistent, and Sojiro looks from his watch, frown playing at the late hour, to the door. Akira’s eyes follow his movements until he sees a dark figure at the door. 

“Who the hell is dumb enough,” Sojiro starts with a sigh as he makes his way toward the door, “to come during a torrential downpour this late at-- Akechi?” 

Akira’s hands stiffen around a plate he’s holding, muscles almost freezing mid-movement. He can see sharp tension pulling at Sojiro’s shoulders, and he takes a small step to the side, just enough to see Akechi standing in the doorway, drenched to the bone, hair hanging over his face. 

“My apologies, Sakura-san,” Akechi mutters politely, a shy, uncertain smile playing at his lips, one that Akira’s only caught brief glimpses of in rare moments when Akechi’s deep in thought. “I hate to impose, but may I come in?” 

“What?” Sojiro blinks rapidly as if forcing the pure shock alone away from his vision. “Of course.” He’s quick to move to the side completely, a silent invitation for Akechi to enter, and Akechi does, shoes squelching loudly in the otherwise quiet cafe, drops of rain pooling on the ground with his every step. 

“I’ll get some towels.” 

“Thank you,” Akechi mutters, relief pushing through his quiet tone, and Akira finally sets the plate back down into the sink and steps toward Akechi, keeping the counter between them. 

“What happened?” Despite the heat and humidity of the summer storm, Akechi’s shaking, just slightly, his fingers digging into his arms as if to keep the shivers at bay. Akira raises a brow and cocks his head to the side, watching the emotions flick across Akechi’s features: anger, sadness, hesitance, reservation. 

“I worked late,” Akechi starts, shuddering slightly. “I forgot an umbrella, but the station isn’t far from the office, so I made a run for it.” A light laugh slips past his lips, one that holds no warmth or heart, and Akira frowns slightly at this, leaning forward, elbows dropping to the counter, as he waits silently for Akechi to gather himself to continue. 

“It appears my popularity’s diminished as the Phantom Thieves’ has risen,” Akechi says, a familiar, practiced smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “I had more foes than friends at the station, all waiting for the same train, so I opted to walk instead.” 

“And you came here.” Akira pushes, eyes narrow. “In the pouring rain. With no umbrella.” No questions, but the fake, almost grating, laugh that echoes across the cafe tells Akira that Akechi is treating it as such.

“Leblanc’s closer.” 

“I don’t think it is,” Akira fires back quietly, pushing, reaching to jab at all of Akechi’s buttons, to open him up, but Akechi stands firm with a television smile and a hand moving to rub at the back of his neck. 

“Perhaps I don’t know my way around as well as I thought I did.” He shivers with this, an involuntary hiss slipping past clenched teeth, and he digs his fingers a little deeper into his bare forearms. 

Akira debates on pushing further, but Sojiro’s walking back with towels in hand and a frown that’s typically reserved for his concern over Futaba. 

“Dry off,” Sojiro says bluntly, but the worry coloring his eyes is loud enough. “Akira can lend you some of his clothes.” He takes in Akechi’s height, spares a brief glance toward Akira’s, and sighs. “Though, they may be a little too long...”

“That’s quite alright,” Akechi starts, reaching for a towel with a shaking hand. “I was merely hoping to wait out the storm then walk--”

“You’ll stay,” Akira spits out faster than his mind can process. “It’s late,” he adds a little too quickly. “Just stay the night.” 

“I don’t wish to--”

“You aren’t,” Akira interrupts, voice stern with a hint of worry threatening to push through, and Akechi’s shoulders slump forward ever-so slightly as he nods. 

“If you’re sure...”

“I am,” Akira says firmly, lips pulled into a flat line, as Sojiro grabs his hat and umbrella. 

“I’ve got to get back to Futaba. Get him dry,” he mutters, nodding toward Akechi. “He doesn’t look so hot.” 

Akira can tell Sojiro is almost hesitant to leave, and for a brief moment, he smiles at the parental warmth that bleeds off of such an uncharacteristic man, but then Akechi sneezes quietly into the crook of his arm, and Akira nods, already springing into action and guiding Akechi up the stairs so he can rifle through his clothing. 

He pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a navy blue, long-sleeve pullover from his box of clothes, and he drops them in Akechi’s arms before motioning him toward the bathroom downstairs. 

With Akechi downstairs, Akira starts rifling through more abandoned stuff in the attic, finding one, thick, wool blanket he spreads out onto his bed and one thin, long sheet that will work just fine. He snags a book and curls up under the sheet on his rough couch, and he’s four pages deep when Akechi comes back up the steps, small smile curling down to a frown. 

“Kurusu, I cannot take your bed.”

“It’s warmer.” Akira says as if it’s obvious, which, he thinks, it is. 

“It’s unfair to you.” 

“Is everything about fairness to you?” Akira asks, glancing over his book with an arched brow. “Right and wrong? Just and unjust?” 

“Kurusu, I--”

“Take the bed,” Akira mutters, not missing the small shivers wracking Akechi’s otherwise straight posture. “I’m not asking.” 

Conflict colors Akechi’s tired eyes, but Akira’s stern gaze wins the silent fight, and he shuffles to the bed, thankful for the warmth and comfort his bones were yearning for. He pulls both blankets tightly around him, yet, even after silent minutes of self-reflection, he can’t stop shaking, and Akira eventually pulls his gaze away from his book once more, frowning toward him. 

“You’re still cold?”

“Ah,” Akechi mutters, lips trembling slightly, “yes. My hair can hold quite a bit of water.” 

Akira’s eyes find the darkened, wet strands still dripping with water. He follows the track of a single drop sliding from Akechi’s sharp jaw to his pale neck--

“Let me,” he starts, shaking his head slightly as he gets to his feet, book abandoned on the couch. He grabs one of the towels Akechi brought up and moves toward the bed. “Scoot forward.” 

“I can--”

“Scoot forward,” Akira repeats, stressing each word, and Akechi quietly obeys, back and shoulders tense as Akira slips in easily behind him and begins working the towel through his wet hair. 

“This really isn’t necessary,” Akechi starts with a light huff, and Akira rolls his eyes as he works gently but efficiently, ignoring the sharp look from Morgana, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet up to this point. 

“You can drop the act, you know. It’s just me.” 

Akechi’s shoulders slump forward, his body taking to a heavy feeling he’s been pushing back for the last few days. 

“I thought that stuff didn’t get to you.” Akira breaks the silence that’s coated in fleeting tension, and Akechi offers a small shrug. 

“It doesn’t, usually. I’ve just been tired, and to be honest, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to have jabs thrown my way for an entire train ride.” 

“Busy?” Akira asks, hand slipping through Akechi’s hair to test if it’s suitably dry, at least, that’s what he tells himself. 

“Terribly so,” Akechi groans, almost leaning back into Akira’s touch. “Between school, Phantom Thieves, and being the country’s most hated High School Ace Detective...” He laughs bitterly at this, and the laugh turns into a small cough, one that he covers with his fist. “Pardon me.” 

Dry enough, Akira thinks as he quietly slips off the bed. “Do you have work tomorrow?” 

Akechi runs his fingers through his hair, frowning at the tangles that catch against them. “No. Though, I should study--”

“--come out with me instead.”

“I’m sorry?” Akechi’s face matches his tone, a pale complexion painted in soft red and confusion. 

“You look like you could use a break from everything.” Akira clarifies, words falling a little too quickly off his tongue, as if to cover for himself. “We can go to the movies if you want to go somewhere semi-secluded. There’s some musical playing Yusuke won’t shut up about.” He forces his mouth shut after this, watching, instead, as Akechi considers through quiet thought. 

“I suppose I could manage that,” he says, and Akira tries really hard, but he genuinely cannot keep the soft smile from inching across his lips. 

“A day off does sound rather nice.” 

Nodding, Akira tosses the towel toward the pile of wet towels in the corner of the room. “That’s settled then. Get some rest for now.”

He turns off the light, not missing the glare Morgana shoots his way, as he gets himself as comfortable as he can manage on the couch. It’s too short for his long legs, the cushions to rough against his back, but he won’t complain. 

“Kurusu?” 

Akechi’s voice is beginning to sound a little rough, taking to a small rasp, and Akira can’t help but wonder if he’ll wind up sick after his venture in the rain. 

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Golden" by Harry Styles (AKA, the only album I've been listening to for the last two months..)
> 
> No one requested this or anything, I just really wanted to write it. 
> 
> I hope everyone likes it!


End file.
